Furries in a Blender
by Jellote
Summary: A fanfic of a fanfic of a fanfic? We need to go deeper.    In a stunning ly bad  parody of RythymWave's series, we see who Cotton will kill next... this time in an alternate universe, on a game show  for some reason .


Furries in a Blender A fanfic by Hanson Canter (totally not a psuedonymn)

[Note on audience participation: whenever it is mentioned that the audience reacts, the members of the chat should do so. It adds to the effect and whatnot.]

"Hello", shouted the announcer, "and welcome to today's episode of Will! It! Blend!"

The crowd gave a wild applause, and many women in the audience whistled (at least a few men did, as well). The spotlights overhead circled around the stage, and a generic gameshow fanfare blared over the speakers. Center stage, the velvet curtains pulled back, revealing a jolly man in a top hat and suit.

"And heeeeeeeere's our host. Please put your hands together for the one, the only: Cotton! Z! Cow!" The clapping grew deafening, and Cotton gave a bow. Roses were thrown at his feet, and more than a couple hundred dollars landed in front of him.

"Thank you", Cotton said, "thank you. You're all a wonderful audience. Now, today on Will It Blend, I have a special surprise for you all. We have six guest stars, and they're all ready to meet you! Can you guess their names?"

The audience murmured for a moment, and Cotton waved his hands to stop them. "Don't worry, folks. I'll tell you. Bagsy, bring them out, because for tonight's episode of Will It Blend, we bring you Lauren Faust's very own creation: the Mane Cast!"

Bags wheeled out a long cart, covered in a sheet. He brought it to center stage, tipped his hat, and went on. Cotton stepped up to the cart, and the spotlights followed him.

"Thanks, Bagsy. Can always count on him, folks. Now without further adieu, let's see them!"

Cotton pulled off the sheet, revealing six chloroformed horses. Each seems to have marks of strangulation over their throats, and some were bleeding from the face. The crowed cheered.

"Sure aren't a lively bunch, are they? But don't worry, we'll perk them back up. Now which should go first? Oh, I know! How about my personal favorite: Rarity!"

Cotton pulled out a remote with six dials. Each was marked with a special symbol. Cotton turned the one with a diamond on it, and the white horse woke up.

"What the?" Rarity yelped, her eyes snapping open. She turned her head to either side, panicking. "Who's there? Where am I? Why do I smell like sweaty linens?"

Cotton patted her on the head. "Relax, little miss Rarity. You're on a reality show, and you're the star".

"A star, you say?" Rarity seemed excited for a moment, but then snapped back to angry. "Well, there most certainly was a better way to get me here than by whacking me on the back of the head! And if I'm the star", she said, tugging at a pair of rusty shackles that held her to the table, "why am I tied up with such aged chains? I'll let you know, this violates at least three laws, not to mention the contracts I no doubt signed before you clubbed me. And, goodness sir, that suit is extremely tacky. I mean, a purple waistcoat and slacks, and a magician's hat too? That's the biggest insult to fashion I have ever seen. How am I supposed to-"

Cotton grabbed her around the shoulder and laughed. "A real sweetheart, ain't she? Well, you little fashionista, we'll be sure to get you a casket that matches your next of kin's taste, because you're here on Will It Blend." The audience gave a cheer at the title drop.

"Casket? Next of kin? Is this some type of joke?"

"," Cotton said, "you've got the honor of being our first contender on this show. The blenders are polished up, and the chrome will cut you cleanly. You won't be disappointed."

"But", Rarity said, losing her edge, "why are you doing this? What kind of sick show is this?"

"Well", Cotton began, "here on Will It Blend, we take some strange, almost wacky, ideas of what to put into a blender, and see if it works. And this week, it's you and your friends going into the blades."

"But", Rarity's lip began to quiver, "but how could you do this? This is sick! You've got to let us go!"

Cotton patted her on the back. "Sorry, ma'am. But all contestants must oblige by our rules. Now, anything else you want to say to the camera before you take the plunge?"

Rarity gave a whimper, and straightened up. "I have one thing to ask. If you're going to kill me, at least let my friends go."

Cotton giggled. "Define 'friends'. Because, well, if you're talking about these other ponies," he motioned to the other five unicornus (unconcious?) ponies on the table, "you're out of luck. Their contracts are binding. Tell you what, though: since you're best pony [sic], I'll give you a choice. Pick one pony outside this room you want to spare, and I won't kill them."

It took Rarity no time at all to respond. "Sweetie Belle! You will not touch her!"

There was a beat, and everyone laughed.

"What?" Rarity demanded. "What is so funny?"

"Mule, I'll touch your sister as much as you want... with my cock!"

"Wa- what?"

Cotton faked a gasp. "She doesn't know? Well, surely you've seen your sister's cutie mark."

"She doesn't have one!" Rarity spat in Cotton's face. "How dare you insult her?"

"Insult her? She's my lover. Maybe you'll recognize this."

Cotton dropped his pants, and showed off his junk. The entire crowd applauded, but Rarity passed out. A random person in the crowd called "how does he fit that in his pants?"

Cotton pulled up his zipper and laughed. "That showed her. Now, are we ready?"

Everyone in the crowd chanted. "Do it! Do it! Do it!" [at this point, everyone in the stream must begin chanting]

Cotton wheeled Rarity over to the large, novelty sized blender at the center of the room. Laser lights across the rooms focused on Cotton as he drew nearer and nearer to the center stage. [Urge the stream to cheer Cotton on from here until Rarity dies]

"Now," Cotton said, "let's begin the countdown. Bags, Keith, come join me. 1! 2! 3!" Cotton sprinted towards the blender, and stopped just short of the edge. Rarity flew off into the pit. Cotton pressed a button on the end of his cane, starting the blender.

The blades shredded Rarity into millions of pieces. First her hooves hit the blades, and one by one they flew off, bouncing against the ceramic walls. Meanwhile, her legs were torn from her torso, breaking every bone in them. Finally, her hearts (plural) found themselves punctured by the cold blades.

For one millisecond, only Rarity's head remained. Cotton wasn't sure, but he thought she might have smiled at him. That, or he was just a sadistic maniac. Either way, he took a clump of Rarity guts off of his shirt and tasted it. "She really was a marshmallow, through and through."

The cameras panned out, and the scene ended. A brief commercial break began.

"Alright, folks," Cotton said, as the camera gained focus on him. The show's theme played lightly over his dialogue. "We kind of had to jump the gun for time constraints, so we had to go ahead and blend Applejack during the commercial break. But don't worry, we have the highlights of her big scene ready."

The large television sets on either side of the stage showed a play-by-play of Applejack's table being tilted up, he falling out, her flailing in midair and finally hitting the blades. A slow-motion shot of her torso being shredded was played from various angles, giving the audience a clear view of her agonized face.

"Well, with that out of the way," Cotton resumed, as the cameras panned back to him, "let's move on to the next lucky pony. The question is, which one? Luckily, we have a way of deciding. Bags, bring out the Wheel of Mortality!"

Bags stepped out from the left side of the stage. The audience was supposed to watch him bring out the wheel, but everyone's attention was focused elsewhere. There was something particularly strange about what he was wearing.

"Hehe," Cotton laughed awkwardly as Bags stepped up to him, "Bags... why are you wearing a fursuit?"  
>Bags spat something white and slimy from his mouth. "Look, don't ask, don't tell. Anyway, I've got to be back with a client in a minute and-"<p>

"Oh Bagsy," Keith said from offstage, "don't leave papa hanging."

With that, Bags sprinted away, his fox suit dragging at his ankles.

"Um..." Cotton said, confused, "anyway... so, let's spin the Wheel of Mortality!"

The lights dimmed, and all spotlights focused on Cotton. The lights on the wheel lit up, and everything went silent.

"On the count of three, we spin! Are we ready?"

"THREE! TWO! ONE! SPIN!"

The wheel spun, and the audience watched in anticipation. After a moment, the gears slowed down. Cotton's forehead began to sweat, and he anticipated something good. Finally, the wheel had reached a snail's pace, and then a Snip's pace. It passed over Fluttershy, then Twilight, Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie, Fluttershy, Twilight...

Who does the wheel land on? You, as the audience, are allowed to decide. Lock in your votes now and await part two of this not-so-thrilling adventure, coming soonish.


End file.
